


A Family Affair

by KiraH69



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Canon-Typical Violence, Consensual Somnophilia, Consensual Underage Sex, Daddy Kink, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Face-Fucking, Incest, Knotting, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Parent/Child Incest, Porn With Plot, Possessive Peter Hale, Post-Nogitsune, Praise Kink, Protective Peter Hale, Sleepy Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-05
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-17 01:54:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29217555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KiraH69/pseuds/KiraH69
Summary: Peter finds out from Lydia that Malia is his daughter, but things don't fit, she doesn't smell like family. His dislike may also be due to her kissing Stiles, his Stiles. He should have made it clear much earlier that he doesn't share.But things are more complicated than he thought when he discovers the truth; something that can't be solved with some sex, or maybe it can.
Relationships: Peter Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 34
Kudos: 274





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Un asunto familiar](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12098514) by [KiraH69](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KiraH69/pseuds/KiraH69). 



> This story is based on madeforhavoc's request at officialteenwolfprompts.tumblr.com.
> 
> This is a translation of my own work. I'd love to have a Beta, but until someone offers this is it. If you come across any word that doesn't fit, don't hesitate to tell me.

[ ](https://imgbb.com/)

He could hear the calm heartbeat inside the room. The light was off and there was no more life inside the house. He climbed the windowsill with elegance as usual and opened the always open window. He slipped into the room in complete silence. The boy's shape rested on the bed under the sheets, totally oblivious to the world. The room smelled intensely of him, of sweat, hormones and semen. He inhaled deeply and caressed the bulge in his crotch. Then, he began to take off his clothes, leaving them perfectly folded on the desk chair. He approached the bed until his legs touched it and rubbed his cock, bringing it to full hardness.

Completely naked, he slipped under the covers and knelt astride the boy. He buried his face in his neck and rejoiced in the delicious smell of the human. He moved his hips and rubbed his erection against a thigh covered by the pajamas soft fabric. A growl vibrated in the back of his throat and the boy sighed, but he still didn't wake up. He pulled the pants down together with his underwear and left them lost between the sheets. He stroked the flaccid cock between his fingers and licked the tip. It reacted immediately and started to get hard. He smiled, the boy was so sensitive. Maybe it was a teenager thing. He crawled up his belly, lifting the shirt in his path, kissing the moles he knew even blindly. The boy only woke up when he took off his shirt.

“Nnh... Peter?” he muttered with a yawn. “I'm sleepy.”

“Sleep then,” Peter gave him a soft kiss on the lips and went down his neck, caressing it with his tongue.

“Hndo whatever you want,” Stiles groaned, turning face down.

Peter smiled and started going down, leaving kisses on the boy's back. When he reached Stiles' ass, he grabbed both checks with his hands, massaging them gently. He spread them and used his tongue to caress from the perineum to his tailbone. The boy moaned but didn't move. His heartbeat made it clear that he was no longer sleeping, but he kept pretending he was. Peter rubbed his tongue over the opening, coating it with his saliva. Stiles sighed, soft sounds escaping his lips. Peter penetrated him with his tongue, almost moaning at the taste of the young man. He never had enough of it. Peter fucked him with his tongue, opening and wetting the tight hole until the boy was moaning and almost sobbing.

“Peter...” he muttered pleadingly, lifting his hips. His cock was already hard and dripping onto the sheets.

Peter smiled, giving one last lick at his hole before standing up. He took a condom and the lube out of the nightstand, setting the former aside for later. Peter coated his fingers with a generous amount of lube and slid one of them into the expectant hole. Stiles sighed and spread his legs wider. Peter worked it slowly, unhurriedly, pressing against the walls inside him, constantly ignoring his prostate and stretching the ring of muscles with the thumb of his other hand. He added another finger and scissored them inside him. The boy moaned and rubbed his erection against the mattress. Peter placed a hand on the small of his back and pinned him against the bed. If he let Stiles get friction he knew the boy would come with just his fingers. He kept opening him with a third finger. Today he wanted it well dilated for him. It wasn't easy, no matter how many times they did it, Stiles was still as tight as the first day (which he really loved).

When he deemed Stiles was ready, Peter pulled his fingers out of him, earning a groan from the boy, and put the condom on, coating it in lube. The bottle was left empty, he would have to buy another one. Peter closed the boy's legs and straddled his thighs. He spread his buttocks with one hand and guided his cock toward the entrance. He pressed in until the head was inside and then he settled down, lying on top of the boy with both arms on either side of his head. He slid inside gently, feeling the walls part in his path and adjust to his shape. A growl vibrated in his chest like a purr as he reached the bottom. The boy moaned and shuddered, becoming more relaxed than before.

Peter stood still for a while, just enjoying the tight warmth enveloping his cock. He left little kisses along his shoulders and his neck, having to restrain himself from leaving any lasting mark. That was probably the part he liked the least, he wanted to mark that pale skin, let everyone know that this boy was his (even if it wasn't true, it was just sex). He gritted his teeth in frustration and jerked his hips. The boy moaned and clung to the sheets, burying his face into the pillow.

“Shhh... It's okay, now I'll be nice,” he said, stroking his head gently.

He sat up on his forearms and began to move inside the boy, getting out slowly, only halfway, then sliding back in a little faster. A high-pitched groan came from Stiles' mouth. Peter had rubbed his prostate fully. He didn't even need to try to find it, the shape of his inner walls suited him perfectly, he seemed born for this. He did it over and over and over again until the boy was constantly shivering and moaning under him.

“Peter... Fuck, Peter, please... Uhn... God…” he started repeating a litany of pleas, barely getting friction on his erection because of the werewolf's weight immobilizing him.

Peter smirked, he knew Stiles had tried to keep quiet, but he wouldn't be his Stiles if he didn't talk. He didn't care, he liked his voice, especially when it was filled with pleasure and despair.

“Come on, I know you can come like this,” Peter whispered into his ear as he continued to thrust faster and faster against his prostate. “Just feel my cock piercing you, filling you. You love this, being used by me to satisfy myself, for my own pleasure. You love to spread your legs for me like a good bitch and take everything I give you,” his voice was husky with pleasure; his breathing, heavy. Something like that shouldn't be much effort for a werewolf, but with Stiles he was always more agitated than usual. “Show me how much you love it and come for me like this, without even touching yourself, and I'll cum inside you. Come on, I want to feel your ass squeezing my cock as you come, Stiles.”

He could already feel the boy's walls tightening around him as he talked. With almost a sob, Stiles came between his belly and the mattress, his fingers gripping the pillow until his knuckles went white. Peter couldn't resist it, the intense and aphrodisiac smell that Stiles gave off with his orgasm was enough to push him to the limit. He came inside the boy, his claws sinking into the sheet, showing how Stiles made him lose control like no one else could. He felt that pressure at the base of his cock, something he had never felt with anyone. His knot should only swell while having sex with his mate. The fact that he felt the need to knot Stiles only confirmed what the rest of his senses kept repeating to him. But no, not yet, this was just sex, that was what Stiles wanted and Peter accepted it, for now.

When he caught his breath, he got out of Stiles, took off the condom, tied it, and tossed it in the trash can. Stiles was truly asleep now, even more relaxed than he had been before. Peter grabbed a washcloth from the bathroom and cleaned up the mess he had left. Then, he crawled into bed behind the boy, putting his arm around him and burying his face into his neck. Peter took a deep breath, taking in the scent of satisfaction he gave off. It was still early in the night. After the Nogitsune he always went to visit the boy before the nightmares started so that he could spend the night free of them. Peter hadn't told him this, but he was sure Stiles had noticed and wasn't mentioning it either. What Stiles perhaps didn't know was that Peter also slept better with the boy in his arms, knowing he was safe and well cared for.

  
  


  
  


Peter woke up at 6:18 a.m. when the sheriff's cruiser pulled up in the driveway. That was his new alarm clock when the sheriff worked the night shift (which was pretty often given that the city's biggest problems happened at night). He got up slowly from the bed, trying not to wake the boy, and began to dress.

“Hmm... Are you leaving?” Stiles asked sleepily.

“Your father has arrived.”

The boy grunted and turned away, his back to him. He covered himself with the quilt until his head was almost completely hidden.

“Do you know that girl called Malia?” Peter asked as he tied his shoes.

“Yeah, we found her, and I saw her at Eichen House,” he answered hoarsely. “Why?”

“Lydia found out from my sister's claws that that girl is my daughter,” he said casually.

Stiles, still half asleep, took a little longer than normal to take in what he had said. When he got it, the boy rose as if pushed by a spring.

“What?!”

“Shh. Your father is coming in,” Peter warned in a whisper.

“You can't tell me something like that right now,” he shout-whispered, getting up from the bed. “Oh, my god, you have a daughter my age. That girl's your daughter, I've made out with your daughter,” he was hallucinating, he couldn't believe it.

“You did what?” Peter focused his attention on him at that. Stiles gritted his teeth, the sheriff was already coming up the stairs, he didn't have time.

“I was in Eichen, I thought I was going to die, I had the Nogitsune inside me and... well, we don't have a proper relationship,” and yet he was trying to justify himself, he realized it was strange.

Peter scowled at him, then glanced toward the door. He turned and stormed out of the room through the window. Stiles wanted to call him back, but Noah was already too close.

Peter walked away from the house and watched it in the distance. At first, he wasn't too interested in that girl, now he wanted to meet her, to know what the hell Stiles had seen in her to kiss her. A possessive growl vibrated in his throat. Now he regretted not having marked his boy.

He decided to begin his investigation that afternoon at the pack meeting. He stayed in the shadows, watching as the remaining members of the pack, less and less everytime despite the new additions, made their way into the loft. The twins were gone, which he was grateful for because he felt like murdering them every time he saw them; the hunter was not there (which he couldn't regret either), and the last of the betas Derek had turned had also left. In their place, the young kitsune and Malia had joined. An increasingly diverse pack, no doubt. He still wondered why they were meeting at the loft if he and Derek were not officially part of the McCall pack.

When Malia arrived along with Stiles and Scott, Peter had to hold back a growl at the bitch's closeness to his boy (and he wasn't using the word bitch in a derogatory way, really). At least when Stiles noticed his presence, he had the decency to lower his gaze and turn away from her a little. He couldn't believe he was jealous of his own daughter, but he kind of lost his rationality when it came to Stiles.

“Who is that?” asked the girl, looking at Peter.

Stiles and Scott looked at each other. Scott walked over with her as Stiles went to the couch next to Lydia.

“Peter, this is Malia. Malia, this is Peter Hale, Derek's uncle,” Scott introduced them.

“A pleasure,” he replied dryly. “Welcome to civilization, by the way.”

When that was all he said, completely lacking of his usual charm, and turned to head for the stairs, everyone stared at him puzzled. Surely everyone (except for Malia, of course) knew that she was his daughter by now and expected much more from their first meeting. The girl looked at him suspiciously but said nothing. Peter wondered how much they had told her about him. If she started fooling around with his Stiles, she'd better be careful, daughter of his or not.

It was strange, he shouldn't feel that way towards his own daughter. At least his wolf should want to take care of her and protect her. There was no such feeling, she didn't even smell like his. He supposed that he should feel something, physical or emotional, but nothing.

Stiles kept some distance from the girl throughout the meeting, glancing at him from time to time. When the meeting was about to end (Peter hadn't even bothered to listen to whatever they were talking about), Stiles texted him: «In my jeep». Peter nodded slightly when Stiles looked at him. When they said their goodbyes and the whole pack departed, Peter went down to the parking lot and found only Stiles' jeep next to Derek's Camaro. He climbed into the passenger seat and waited as Stiles shifted nervously in his seat sorting out his ideas.

“I'm sorry about... the kiss. I didn't know... We've never talked about... about anything, really,” he said with a nervous laugh. “The closest we had to a conversation about... whatever this is was deciding to use condoms to keep them from smelling you on me. I don't know... I don't know what this is, I don't know what we are, what the limits are or anything.”

“Even so you still feel the need to apologize for the kiss.”

“Yeah, it's just... Well, she's your daughter, that's weird. This feels like a soap opera, it's like... indirect incest? No thanks, my life is weird enough. And... well, this is my fault too, I should have suggested we talk about this earlier. What…” Stiles glanced at him, his face flushed, and looked back at his hands, which didn't stop moving nervously on the wheel. “What do you think about us?”

“That I do not share. With no one,” he answered firmly.

Stiles looked at him with those beautiful wide whiskey eyes. The blush spread to his ears and down his neck. For a moment he seemed to want to reply something, but finally he closed his mouth and nodded. Peter could smell the spicy note of his arousal and something that was akin to happiness. Peter's wolf nodded approvingly. He grabbed the boy by the nape with one hand and forced him to look at him. He brought his face closer until their lips were about to touch. He could see Stiles' desire to kiss him, but he didn't grant it.

“Now think about what you want from us and tell me tonight,” he said and released him, getting out of the car without looking back.

He knew that Stiles was insecure about their relationship. That's why he had had that slip with the bitch, but once they made their relationship official, even just between the two of them, Stiles would not look at anyone else again. The boy was faithful to the core and Peter adored that about him.


	2. Chapter 2

Peter got into the database of the Beacon Hills Hospital and other nearby hospitals looking for information on Malia. He might have been in a coma for six years, but he was still good with technology, unlike his nephew, and he hadn't been slow to catch up. He was surprised to find the girl's birth certificate in order. His name didn't appear on it as the father, it was strange, and he didn't recognize her mother's name either. He had expected they would make it disappear or have his name removed from it, but he hadn't expected that Talia would bother finding an alternative father for her before putting her up for adoption. He investigated the name of her father and mother and things did not quite fit together. He didn't feel like Malia was his daughter and this only made him hesitate even more.

Frustrated with his research, Peter began rummaging through the hospital files for fun. It didn't take long to find Stiles' file and, god, the boy was a mess. If he didn't know him well, he might think Stiles was being mistreated for all the times he ended up in the ER, but he was sure that each and every one of them was fault of some of his antics. He found strange that the file appeared under the name 'Stiles' since he knew it wasn't his real name so he started looking for his birth certificate but couldn't find it. At least not under the name Stilinski. He had to find out his mother's maiden name to find it and there he was, Mieczyslaw  Stilinski. What the hell was that? Why was there a censored word in the middle of Stiles' name? But that wasn't the only one, there was also a long black mark in front of the sheriff's name. He wasn't able to discover anything else with the scanned file. He would have to look for the original files and Malia's too in case they helped him clarify things. He would also have to find out how that name was pronounced.

But that would be tomorrow, he had a date with Stiles tonight and it was already late. He took a quick shower and put on the cardigan that left him with a deep V-neck, with nothing else underneath. He knew how much Stiles liked it. He was pretty sure what the boy's answer was going to be, but, in case he had thought about rejecting him, Peter hoped he would regret it.

When he arrived in front of the house, he could clearly hear the boy's racing heartbeat in his room. Only his light was on, though he could hear the sheriff's relaxed heartbeat in another room, already asleep. Peter came in through the window and Stiles jumped out of bed. His eyes were immediately fixed on his almost bare chest, and Peter tried to hide the satisfaction that brought him.

“Well? Do you have an answer?” he asked him quietly, trying to look nonchalant to some degree.

“I want an exclusive relationship with you, I don't know what kind of relationship yet, but... I don't want to share either,” he looked at Peter doubtfully. Stiles was asking him if Peter would be exclusive to him too. The boy had no idea how far Peter was already committed to their relationship.

“I don't share, Stiles” Peter caressed his face with one hand, running his thumb over the delightful moles that dotted his cheek, “neither what is mine nor myself.”

Stiles sighed with a relieved expression, leaning on his hand with half-closed eyes.

“I'm sorry for what happened, it won't happen again, with anyone,” he promised, taking a step closer to Peter.

“I sure hope so, I wouldn't want to have to kill anyone who dared to touch you, family or not,” he warned the boy very seriously. The spike of arousal he smelled in his scent wouldn't have been as intense with those words before the Nogitsune, but Stiles wasn't the same after the events of the Nogitsune, none of them were. “On your knees.”

It was automatic, Stiles dropped to the ground in front of him, reaching for the zipper of his pants without needing further instructions. Stiles was going to show him how sorry he was for what had happened, but it was also a reward for the boy, it was one of his favorite things in bed (that oral fixation of his had great advantages). He unbuttoned his pants and pulled them down to his thighs. There was nothing under them, as always. Stiles placed his hands on the werewolf's hips, he would do all the work with his mouth. He kissed the tip of his half-hard cock and rubbed it with his lips and cheeks until it was completely hard. Peter's wolf almost purred when he saw how the boy marked himself with his scent. He knew it wasn't going to last long, Stiles would wash himself off with a special gel before anyone noticed it, but it made him proud at that moment.

When Stiles had his cock fully hard in front of him, he wrapped his mouth around the tip and began to go down slowly. The thick cock stretched his jaw impossibly. He loved the weight on his tongue, the way it rubbed his sensitive palate. He felt his own cock already hard in his pants and had just begun. The boy didn't stop until his nose was buried in his pubic hair. He didn't even gagged, after so much practice he already knew how to control it. He couldn't breathe, the cock was blocking his airways, but Stiles forced himself to stay that way for as long as he could. As he was about to move away, Peter grabbed him by the back of his head and held him there for another one, two, three, four and five seconds. Stiles pulled away and coughed, hiding his mouth in his hands so as not to wake his father. His face was red with tears in his eyes and saliva running down the corner of his swollen lips. So beautiful. Peter tenderly stroked his face, stretching his plump lips with his thumb.

As soon as he had caught his breath, Stiles returned to his task. He licked the thick shaft, following the vein that ran from the base to tip, lingering at the frenulum. He massaged the cock with his lips, kissing it as passionately as he would kiss Peter's lips. He went down to his balls and gave them the same treatment, sucking them into his mouth and then licking them. Peter was already dripping, his control gradually slipping away. Stiles knew how to tease him. Peter wanted to tell him how well he was doing, how beautiful he was that way (and always), but he had to hold back, they couldn't wake the sheriff. He grabbed his hair and pulled him away from his cock. The boy gave a soft moan and opened his mouth, freezing in the werewolf's grasp. Peter held his cock with his free hand and guided it to his expectant mouth. Stiles closed his lips over it, pressing his tongue against the underside, and let Peter fuck his mouth.

The wolf was not cruel or excessive, he did it very carefully trying not to hurt him. It had been Stiles himself who had asked to do this the first time, he wanted to give Peter all control knowing that he would not hurt him. Peter had never hurt him, and he never wanted to. That was precisely what their relationship was based on. Stiles needed someone to really take control, someone who knew what to do with him and wasn't lost like the rest of his friends were. This need had grown even more intense after the Nogitsune. He needed someone who wouldn't let him fall back into that darkness and Peter... Peter had been the one who had saved him from the Nogitsune after all, the only one who had known what to do. Before that he might not have seemed like the best option, now it was the only one. For his part, the werewolf could not deny that he had a thirst for power, for control, but in this case he also wanted to take care of Stiles. That ridiculous pack did not know how to take care of their humans and they were not even able to recognize and appreciate the work that Stiles did for them, they would be totally lost without him. Peter had seen from day one his potential, he wouldn't have offered him the bite otherwise. And on top of that, all his senses told him that Stiles was his, that he was born to be his mate. He would wait for it because Stiles wasn't ready yet, but he had no intention of ignoring it, not when his mate was such a formidable human. They would achieve great things together.

It had started out as just sex, now it began to be something else.

He could smell the cum on Stiles' pants as he came without even touching himself, stifling a moan on Peter's cock. The vibration took him to the limit and it didn't take him much longer to follow the same path. Careful not to dig his claws into his head, he came deep into the boy's throat without even giving him a chance to taste it. Stiles swallowed every last drop like he always did and Peter carefully slid out of his mouth. He picked the boy up in his arms and laid him on the bed. Peter knew he could take another round, but he didn't want to exhaust him either, much less a school night, I just needed to be relaxed enough to sleep without nightmares. He wiped his face and wiped himself before laying down next to him, one possesive arm around him.

  
  


  
  


“Did you find out something?” Derek asked him when Peter arrived at the loft the next morning.

Peter was caught for a moment. Derek couldn't be talking about his research on Malia, he hadn't mentioned it to him, but what else could he be talking about?

“Hm? About what?” he asked, feigning unconcern.

“About the creature that's lurking around town. The one that leaves teenagers in a coma.”

“Oh, yes. No, I haven't found out anything.”

Right, that's what yesterday's meeting was about. He hadn't even paid attention to it. Who cared about those teens? He was only interested in one.

“Is it about Malia?”

He felt a twinge of anger at that name, but he didn't let anything show on his face.

“What do you think? I just discovered that I'm a father and that your dear mother erased that memory from me, she took it from me. You'll understand that I have no mind for other matters,” he replied and was satisfied to see the guilty expression that crossed Derek's face even if he was not at fault. The poor martyr.

“Still, try to figure something out. More and more kids appear.”

Peter waved his hand dismissively and walked up the stairs. He wanted to research about Malia and Stiles, but he couldn't access the physical records of the hospital until late at night so he set about researching the creature of the week. He didn't care for those teens in the least, but he loved Stiles' almost adoring look when Peter knew the answer to the problem. Not that he was doing it for him, but, well, what else did he have to do?

He started by learning about the attacks because he hadn't really paid any attention to the meeting. Four boys so far, the last one yesterday, aged 17-19, nine, seven, and four days apart between attacks -whatever it was, was getting more greedy or needy by the minute-. The boys had disappeared from a night club or a bar (which they shouldn't be in) at the beginning of the night and had reappeared the next morning in a coma, with no signs of violence or abuse on their bodies. No drugs had been found in their bodies, either, just slight amounts of alcohol.

«The attacks on those teenagers, don't you think it could be a human?

A new designer drug?» he asked Stiles through his private chat.

«Didn't you listen at the meeting?

Derek and Scott smelled a strange, creature odor where they were found.

Any ideas?» he replied with incredible speed.

« Some, I have to research.

I'll contact you when I know something.»

He put the phone away and went to his apartment, where he had a much larger library than there. In the loft he only kept the books of little value, the ones that he didn't care for others to see.

By the end of the day, he already had several suspects, but he couldn't narrow the search any further without someone like Deaton examining the boys (and he wasn't going to ask, of course). He would tell Derek about it tomorrow, today he had something more important (or that interested him more) to do.

At night, he snuck into the hospital archives at the first chance he got and began searching for the documents that interested him. He first found Malia's birth certificate, with its contents as it was in the hospital's digital archive. It was possible that it had been filled in like that from the beginning, but it was strange. He kept the documents to himself for further examination and began searching for Stiles'. He found them and opened them curious. He felt like he had been punched in the chest. For a moment he was out of air and was unable to breathe. He couldn't believe what he was reading, it was absolutely impossible. It had to be a fucking joke.

Name: Mieczyslaw Hale

Father's Name: Peter Hale

That couldn't be, it had to be... it had to be a mistake, someone must have manipulated it, it had to... it must be...

He put the paper down over the drawer and backed up until he collided with the opposite file cabinet. His legs were shaking and he was hyperventilating. He had to control himself, he had to regain his composure. He closed his eyes and took deep, long breaths over and over until his heartbeat picked up a normal rhythm and he regained his composure. He looked at the paper again without even touching it.  _Mieczyslaw Hale_ . Well, it sounded good (even if he didn't know what Mieczyslaw sounded like). He didn't understand why Talia had done this to him, why it was so terrible that he was his son. Had the sheriff had something to do with it, or was he ignorant of it too? Stiles was his son. He should have imagined it, they had the same sense of humor, the same knack for sarcasm, and of course, modesty aside, he had inherited his intelligence.

“ _God_...” he let out a shaky breath, covering his face with his hands.

He had been fucking his own son. If before they believed that he was sick, now they would be sure. It wasn't his fault, he didn't know. Fuck, Stiles was going to kill him Again. He now understood why his scent attracted him so much. It was the scent of family, the scent of his child, the one he should have sensed in Malia and now he understood why she lacked it. But no, Stiles not only smelled like his son would smell, he smelled like his mate. That's why he had never even imagined that he was his son, everything in Stiles told him that he was his mate. It did not make sense. If he hadn't discovered this, he would have made him his mate sooner or later, his own son. He was going to kill Lydia, there was no doubt about that.

He had been fucking his own son and,  _god, how much he liked it_ . When the boy moaned and wiggled in his arms, when he opened up for him, so vulnerable, offering himself to him as if he trusted him with his life. He had been taking care of his son's desperate needs, physical and mental, better even than the sheriff had. He was the first person his son turned to when he was desperate and knew no one else could help him. The wolf inside him was almost purring with happiness, puffing out his chest with pride.

“Fuck,” he rubbed his crotch, the hard bulge pressing against his pants. “I'm sick.”

He took out his cell phone and sent a text.

«Get ready» he said simply. Stiles would know what it meant and would obey like a good son.

“Fuck.”

He just hoped the sheriff wasn't home because he wasn't going to be silent today.

When he arrived at the Stilinski house, perhaps breaking some speed limits, there was only a heartbeat inside, as fast as a rabbit's. Stiles was nervous, anxious, expectant. The boy knew what it meant when Peter told him to get ready: he was going to prepare himself as much as he could, then Peter would come and fuck him without even checking. And it wasn't going to be sweet.

Peter came in through the already open window and he found Stiles naked on the bed, illuminated by the desk lamp, kneeling with his head on the pillow and three fingers inside his ass. When he saw Peter, he pulled his fingers out and held onto the pillow, lifted his bottom and spread his legs. He was presenting himself in such a beautiful way; that already delicious smell of his full of arousal. You won't believe it, but the boy had no idea how sexy and attractive his body was. Those slender limbs, that pale, mole-covered expanse of skin. The discreet muscles that he had developed in the fights and escapes of the last years had made his body more mature and the terrible events that he had lived had given his face that bit of darkness and that sharpness to his gaze that Peter found simply fascinating. That was his son, not only the most intelligent and loyal, but also a true work of art. He wanted to worship that body, and how better than to show how much it turned him on.

The wolf inside him wanted to fuck him and knot him and fill him with his seed as the boy cried in pleasure. And he wanted the same thing so he let the wolf have a little control. He approached the bed slowly, unbuttoning his pants on the way. He knelt behind Stiles, and the boy spread his legs a little wider. His precious hole was glistening with lube, almost dripping. He only held back long enough to put the condom on before sinking into that warm insides that were born to satisfy him. He thrust deep into him, the growl in his throat nearly drowning out the boy's cry. He could smell a spike of pain and could have drawn it out with his power, but the surge of arousal he sensed from Stiles told him he was enjoying it.

He felt the velvety insides contract around him, trying to suck him deeper. He had never fit so well into anyone and now he knew why, he had made his son just right for him. It was a ridiculous thought, but he smiled, more wolf than human. Peter began to thrust brutally, not even allowing him to get used to the invasion, delighting in the high-pitched moans that elicited from the young man.

“Do you like it? You love it when I fuck you like this, right? When it's almost my wolf who's piercing your ass. You're so good for us, so good”, he tells because he knows that Stiles likes to be praised, because he is not praised enough; he deserves more and Peter wants to give it to him, everything.

When his little one started sobbing from the intense pleasure Peter had to let go of his hips because he couldn't control himself anymore. Peter grabbed onto the mattress on either side of Stiles' head, digging his claws into it. The boy held on to the strong wrists against the intense thrusts. The knot wanted to swell, he wanted to tie his mate, but Peter won't allow it, not yet. He could smell Stiles' cum splattering the sheets and the intense smell and hypnotic sounds of his orgasm are enough to make Peter cum filling the condom.

He stood there for a long time, his cock comfortable inside him, his body covering like a blanket the sweaty, exhausted figure of his son. His lips caressed his neck and his shoulders. He had never felt such a need to mark him before, but no, not yet, soon.

Stiles was about to fall asleep when Peter got out of him. He gave a soft groan and settled sideways on the edge of the bed. Peter cleaned him, careful not to damage even more his red, swollen hole, stripped off his clothes and lay down behind him. Stiles sat back against him, fitting perfectly into the curve of his body. Peter hummed contentedly behind him and put an arm around the boy.

“A frustrating research?” Stiles asked in a sleepy voice.

Peter thought for a moment about the birth certificate before realizing that he wasn't talking about it.

“I've found some possible suspects, but without an examination of the victims I can't narrow the search.”

“Can I have a look at it?” he asked in a hopeful tone and how could Peter refuse?

“Of course. Tomorrow is Saturday, we can research together.”

“At your place?”

And he didn't expect that, but at the thought of Stiles in his home, among his things, surrounded by his smell, Peter didn't think twice.

“At my place.”


	3. Chapter 3

Peter cuddled around his son for as long as possible, and got up only when the sheriff was already entering the house. He smiled as Stiles moved back looking for his contact. Peter stroked his head gently and the boy relaxed, returning to a deep sleep. He left a note with his address next to Stiles' cell phone and walked out the window. When he got home, he made sure everything was perfect (it always was, but he checked it anyway), made some snacks, and checked that he had food in the fridge to make something if Stiles stayed for lunch or dinner. His wolf wanted to provide for his son and his (future) mate. Quite early he received a text on his cell phone.

«I'm here. Can I go up?»

«Of course», he replied and thought that he would have to do something to remove the insecurity he seemed to feel.

He opened the door to his apartment and Stiles entered nervously, looking at him from under his long lashes. He stepped past him and looked around the place with those big whiskey eyes. There was a small smile on his face.

“I was expecting something more extravagant and luxurious. I like it.”

Peter tried to hide how proud that made him feel.

“Everything here is of the highest quality, luxury doesn't have to be extravagant. Furthermore, I have to stay low-key for now, I wouldn't mind a bigger apartment in the future or a house,” _whichever you prefer_ , he thought.

The apartment had a simple and modern look, a spacious living room separated from the kitchen by a breakfast bar, large windows, white walls, dark floors, a black leather sofa in front of a fireplace and lots of shelves full of books. It was obvious how Stiles was drawn to them, keeping his hands in his pockets so as not to start pulling out books.

“Do you want a drink?” he asked, regaining his attention.

“No, I'm okay. Is that the research?” He asked, indicating the books on the coffee table in front of the sofa.

Peter motioned for him to go for them and both of them sat on the couch. Stiles took out the laptop from his backpack, and they began to work. It didn't take long for Peter to wrap an arm around his waist, and shortly afterward his face was buried in the boy's neck.

“Peter... um... we should be researching,” Stiles told him without much force.

“I dreamed of you last night,” he whispered, his lips caressing the boy's ear.

That piqued Stiles' curiosity and he completely forgot about the book he was reading.

“Oh. And what was the dream about exactly?” he asked, tilting his head slightly, exposing his neck in such a sweet gesture that Peter couldn't help himself and started kissing and licking him, hating that he couldn't mark him.

“A wet dream,” he whispered against his skin, choosing very well his next words, attentive to the boy's reaction. “In that dream you were my son instead of Malia, and you were _so good_ for me.”

Any human who had been looking would have seen hardly any reaction from the boy. Peter, for his part, heard his heart jump and then race, his breathing pausing for a moment with an almost inaudible gasp, an intense smell of arousal wafting from him and his body tensing, motionless in a way that he had only seen with the Nogitsune. They were partly mixed reactions and Peter couldn't deny that he was a bit nervous waiting for his answer.

“And… did you like it?” Stiles asked in a voice so soft it didn't sound like his own.

“Definitely. Stiles...” he slid a hand over his thigh, his fingers lightly caressing the inner side, close but not touching his crotch, enough to make his intentions clear, “Would you call me Dad?”

At that moment, Stiles gave a startled moan that was reminiscent of an animal's. The boy bit his lower lip, turning it red and swollen with his teeth, and Peter couldn't stop staring.

“Y-yes... I could do that... D-Dad,” he finally answered, looking at him shyly with his cheeks and ears flushed.

That shook Peter and his wolf to the core, maintaining control required superhuman effort on his part. The intense smell of arousal mixed with embarrassment was driving him crazy.

“Will you be a good boy for me?” Peter asked him in a low, somewhat affected voice, the arm around him pressing him even more against his body.

“Yes, Dad… I'll be good,” and it was almost a plea, his body vibrating with anticipation.

And then Peter jumped on him, it couldn't be called anything else. Stiles let out a high-pitched cry of surprise, followed by a moan as the werewolf took his lips in a fierce kiss. Stiles was impressed by how much that fantasy turned the usually serene werewolf on, but he didn't mind collaborating, he liked it when the wolf lost control.

With a constant growl in his chest, Peter pursued the melodic moans that the young man drowned in his mouth. He devoured his lips as if he was starving. His boy was so cute, so perfect, so innocent. He had no idea that he was really fucking his father and that only turned him on even more. What would he say if he found out? What would be the expression on that beautiful face? Peter didn't want to find out, at least not yet. He wanted to enjoy this dirty secret a little more.

When he released his mouth, it left him panting, his lips swollen and red, his cheeks a lovely shade of pink. So arousing.

“Dad…” he gasped, licking his bottom lip as if he wanted to taste Peter on it.

The growl, which had not stopped, intensified. He lifted the boy into his arms, one hand at his back and the other under his knees, and strode with him into the bedroom. Peter laid him gently on his massive bed and knelt over him like a wolf over his prey.

“I'm going to take _such good_ care of my boy,” and it almost sounded like the wolf was speaking. “I'm going to leave you so satisfied that you won't be able to walk straight for a whole week.”

Stiles moaned at that and spread his legs, accommodating the werewolf between them.

“Yes, Dad, please!” he begged, his hands already trying to remove his shirt.

Peter already had to resist the shift, this boy was dangerous. He grabbed his wrists, pressing them against the mattress, and leaned over his neck. Stiles tilted his head back exposing his neck and his wolf practically purred. He grabbed the neck of his shirt with his fangs and slid them down, ripping it down the center. The boy lifted his hips, his pupils dilated.

“Damn, that was... You owe me a t-shirt, but that was so hot,” he gaped, unable to stop wiggling under him, still with his wrists immobilized.

“I'll buy you all the t-shirts you want, especially if I get the chance to rip them off, darling.”

Then, he launched himself onto the boy's bare chest. He knew he couldn't leave marks that would last more than two days, he had lacrosse training on Monday, but it was so easy to mark that pale skin even with his human teeth and nails. Just a little suction on his collarbone and his skin was already red; his teeth brushing against his sides and it would take several minutes for the marks to fade. And those adorable nipples begging for attention. Peter covered one with his mouth and licked it until it was erect, then nibbled it gently. His son gave sweet moans, so sensitive there, and lifted his hips with an intense moan as Peter sucked hard. Peter drew back a bit to admire his work and, satisfied, took care of the other nipple until it acquired the same dark reddish hue, the little nub hard and throbbing.

“Dad, please… it hurts…” he wasn't talking about his sensitive nipples but about the hard-on imprisoned in his pants.

Peter squeezed his grip on his wrist a little more and looked into his eyes.

“Don't move them,” he ordered, releasing him.

Stiles nodded eagerly and watched with hungry eyes as he descended towards the zipper of his pants. He unzipped them slowly at an almost tortuous pace. He reached inside them and stroked the smooth skin of his legs as he pulled them off. Peter smiled when he saw that he wasn't wearing anything under them, imitating his father. He removed his socks, and the boy was left only in the remnants of his tattered shirt. Stiles spread his legs in an absolutely obscene way, completely exposing himself to him. He could see the tight, lovely hole and a glob of pre-cum dripping from the tip of his cock onto his belly. His eyes glowed, and he had to hold back his claws. The boy didn't know what he was doing, showing himself like this to a werewolf, to him.

Peter grabbed his thighs, squeezing them tightly with human fingers, and slid his tongue from the base to the tip of the cock. Stiles shouted in surprise and only Peter's grip kept him from thrust into the air. With a smile shining in his eyes, Peter wrapped his lips around the tip of his cock and went down in one fluid motion over it. How he managed to look so cocky with a dick filling his mouth was a mystery. Without gaging a single time, he swallowed the cock all the way and once there he growled, the vibrations spreading through Stiles' body.

“Nnh! Dad!” Stiles yelled, clutching Peter's head with both hands.

Peter smirked (as much as he could in that situation) triumphantly, he knew the boy wouldn't last long with his hands still and his cock was already dripping into his mouth. And Stiles calling him dad crying with that desperation only made him think of what he would sound like when he screamed it out while he came.

He sucked on the cock until it was out of his mouth and then pushed Stiles' knees against the boy's chest, lifting his butt into the air. His tongue slid from the start of his crack to his balls and the little one gave an adorable moan, his body relaxing and surprisingly still. Peter knew that this was one of his favorite parts, and he couldn't deny that he enjoyed it immensely too, even more so now that he couldn't help but think that this was his own son, his blood, and that he was taking such good care of him.

The next time his tongue passed over the hole, he pressed a little more, and a little more the next one, until he was licking directly on it, pressing his tongue just enough to make him think he was going to penetrate him, but only covering his entrance with saliva. He was careful with his fangs, which threatened more and more insistently to come out. He didn't want to hurt him there, especially since Peter had just started with him.

“Peter, Peter...” he repeated his name as a plea. When Peter growled, Stiles bit his lip and rectified. “Dad, please, daddy.”

“What do you want, sweetheart?" Let me hear you say it.”

“Nh... Your tongue... I want you to fuck me with your tongue,” he asked, the blush spreading across his neck and chest.

“Good boy,” a second later he had his tongue buried in his son's hole. Pushing it in and out, stroking the ring of muscles and savoring his insides.

The sweet little animal moans he gave were delicious and went straight to his cock. He was so vulnerable under him, entrusting him with the most intimate and delicate parts of his body, entrusting his life to him and it would be so easy to kill him. But Peter didn't want to kill him, he wanted to protect him, care for him, treasure him. Yes, he would kill without a second thought anyone who dared to lay a finger on him. Stiles was his, on so many levels that he knew he would never let go.

“Are you going to cum, sweetheart?” he asked when he could already smell that he was getting close to the limit. "Are you going to be a good boy and cum with just dad's tongue in your ass? Come on, I know you can do it."

“Nnh! Yes, Dad, yes!” he replied enthusiastically, clinging to the sheets.

He felt the tension in the boy's body, that desperation of being ready, but without friction on his cock to help him get there. With his tongue fucking inside him, Peter brushed human teeth against the sensitive skin of his hole and that was enough, Stiles came with a strong cry without anything touching his cock. Peter kept licking him until the orgasm passed and his body relaxed again. He released Stiles slowly, stretching his legs out, and leaned over him. He kissed the boy, sliding his tongue into his mouth, letting Stiles taste himself. Stiles accepted the kiss obediently, but he was too far gone at the time to reciprocate.

“You've been a good boy for Dad,” he whispered in his ear, placing sweet kisses down his tear-wet cheeks. “You've been so good that you almost made up for what you did before, _almost_.”

“Hnn?” Stiles hummed in confusion.

“Your hands, you moved them and grabbed my head even when I told you to keep them still,” Peter clarified and saw a mixture of emotions on Stiles' face, anticipation among them.

“B-but, daddy...” he said pleadingly.

“Shhh. What kind of father would I be if I didn't punish you when you disobey?” he turned Stiles over easily, his body completely pliable. “Come on, accept your punishment like a good boy and then I'll keep making you enjoy it, I promise.”

Stiles gave a soft groan, but he didn't move from the position Peter had placed him in, on his knees with his ass up in the air. He knew what was coming, but still he couldn't help crying out in shock when the first spank landed on his butt cheek. Peter barely gave him time to recover from it, he spanked the boy again, always controlling his strength, Peter only wanted him to feel the burning and to associate it with the pleasure that still had to run through his body from the orgasm. His pale ass marked by the red silhouette of his hand was a plus.

He counted to ten and stopped, after all, he was behaving pretty well (the truth is that he couldn't wait any longer to have his cock inside him). Even so, Stiles was already sobbing, overwhelmed by the feelings he was experiencing and even more so by the emotions the whole act woke up in him. If only he knew it wasn't really a performance.

“You've put up with your punishment so well,” he told the boy, stroking his head, and Stiles let out a sweet happy moan at the compliment. It was so easy to make him happy, just a compliment here and there, but no one bothered to try. “Now we are going to continue with what we were doing, do you feel like it?”

“Yes, Dad, please,” he answered, spreading his legs and lifting his reddened ass.

Peter smiled and picked up the bottle of lube before kneeling behind him. He covered his fingers with plenty of lube and slid the first one smoothly into the hole. Stiles sighed like it was a relief to have something inside again. It probably was. Peter opened him slowly, caressing his inside without overstimulating his prostate. Thanks to his previous treatment and surprisingly thanks to the spanking, he was very relaxed and it was easy to put in a second finger, soon a third. Stiles was moaning and wiggling, trying to rub against the mattress to get friction on his hard cock.

“Dad, please, pleasepleaseplease…” he begged, moving his hips to fuck himself on Peter's fingers.

“What do you want, sweetheart?”

“Your cock, please, Dad, give me your cock,” Stiles was so needy that he was no longer ashamed to ask.

Peter growled deep in his throat and saw the boy shudder, spreading his legs farther apart and tilting his head to the side to expose his neck. He was so perfect and responded so well. He had to fulfill his son's wishes, so he pulled his fingers from inside him and replaced them with his dripping sheathed cock. He slid slowly into him, feeling the still tight walls part in his wake, fitting his cock like a glove. His son seemed to melt under him, letting out soft moans with a final sigh as he reached the bottom. He felt full now, complete. Peter could smell the happiness and satisfaction emanating from him. The boy didn't even need an orgasm, he was happy with his cock inside him. But Peter did want an orgasm, more specifically he wanted to fill him with his seed until he overflowed. Stiles was not only his son, he was also his mate and he felt the need to see his round belly full of his cubs (even if that wasn't possible, he couldn't help but wish for it).

Peter grabbed him by the hips and began to move, slowly at first, pulling out until only the tip was left inside and back in until their balls collided with each other. Stiles quickly grew impatient, moving his hips to meet his, and soon a litany of pleading came from his mouth.

“Come on, Dad, please fuck me... Nhn... Faster, please, harder, harder…” that's what smart and sharp Stiles had come down to, and all thanks to him.

Peter granted it, it wasn't exactly a problem. Stiles cried with the first thrust and started moaning with the next. The sweet sounds coming from his mouth and the wet crash of their bodies were all that could be heard in the room along with the headboard banging against the wall. Peter could feel the wolf wanting to surface, the warmth of that tight inside was overwhelming, the tips of his claws pricking the skin of his pale hips and leaving marks there.

“Are you going to cum again, sweetheart? Are you going to cum for Dad?”

“Uhn... Yeah... so close... Hnn...”

Peter leaned over him, his fangs brushing his neck.

“Come on, I need you to come so I can fill you with my milk. Do you want my milk, love?” he asked, and Stiles nodded eagerly without being able to answer in words. “Then come.”

It was like magic, Stiles came in that same instant, splashing the sheets. Peter felt the walls tightening around him and he couldn't hold back any longer, he came inside the boy, filling the condom with his seed -what a waste-, having to move away from his neck so as not to end up biting him. He felt the knot press at the base of his cock. The need was so strong that he couldn't deny it anymore. He got carried away, and the knot began to swell.

“Nn? What's that? Peter?” Stiles asked somewhat scared when he felt the bulge grow inside of him, stretching his abused walls.

“Shh. It's okay, it's my knot, you'll get used to it.”

“Your knot? Oh, my god! Does that really exist? Oh god, hnn…” it was stretching him impossibly and now Stiles could only moan and squirm.

Peter put his arms around him, holding him tightly so he wouldn't hurt himself trying to get away from him. When the knot was full, he sighed contentedly and rolled onto his side with Stiles. Stiles was sobbing, but he wasn't complaining. Peter petted him gently to reassure him and kissed his neck and shoulders. He was happy, both him and his wolf, because he had finally tied his mate and because now his room smelled like the two of them, just a perfect smell that he never wanted to lose.

Stiles fell asleep before the knot even deflated and Peter didn't bother to get out of him even after, he settled down and fell asleep too.

  
  


  
  


“Why didn't Scott tell me about the knot?” Stiles asked as they went through the books a couple of hours later with a snack.

He hadn't mentioned calling him Dad, and Peter wasn't going to bring it up.

“Probably because he doesn't even know it exists. It only comes out under certain circumstances.”

Stiles looked at him, waiting for him to elaborate, and when Peter didn't say more he sighed rolling his eyes.

“And what are those circumstances?”

“It can only swell when you're with your mate,” he replied casually.

“With your mate?” Stiles asked confused. It took him several seconds, but finally Stiles' eyes widened and he gaped at Peter. “Are... Are you... You mean, that about wolves mating... for life?”

He could smell the panic growing inside the boy. It was too early, he wasn't ready to take it in, their relationship had only just become exclusive and it was still a secret from everyone else. Peter placed a hand on the back of his neck and pressed gently. Stiles seemed to relax, but he was still on edge.

“Let's get on with this, we have a monster to catch.”

Stiles seemed grateful for the change in the subject and focused on the research.


	4. Chapter 4

“It's very likely to attack tonight, we must set a trap to catch it,” Derek commented at the pack meeting that afternoon.

Between Peter and Stiles, with some additional information Deaton had provided after examining the boys, they had concluded that the creature was a genie, and not exactly like Aladdin's. This creature stole people's minds and made them fall into a deep and permanent coma. The books weren't any more specific as to what exactly 'stealing the mind' meant, but it didn't sound good at all. Why it seemed to have a predilection for young boys, they didn't know that either, although from the places the boys had disappeared they imagined it might be a woman.

“As soon as it smells you, it'll know you're werewolves,” Peter said in a more bitter tone than usual.

Stiles had gone home before coming to the meeting and had showered meticulously, removing all traces of him from his body. Peter was used to it and normally it wouldn't bother him so much, but he had already accepted that Stiles was his mate as well as his son, and he hadn't claimed him yet; his wolf was on edge, he didn't like it at all.

“That's why Stiles will be the bait.”

An intense growl ripped from his throat and all eyes went to him.

“You can't put your pack human at such a risk, much less after everything that's happened,” he growled at his nephew, trying to control his shift.

“We're not asking for your opinion,” Lydia replied, oh, that little bastard who had tricked him, just because at the time her heart was racing so much that he wasn't able to read the lie in it. “I don't even know what you're doing here, you're not part of the pack.”

“This can hardly be called a pack, your beloved True Alpha doesn't even recognize when his best friend is possessed nor can he prevent his girlfriend from dying. Oh, sorry, ex-girlfriend, or whatever the hell that was. In case you haven't noticed,” now he was addressing Scott, “your pack is diminishing two at a time. Do you want Stiles to be one of the next two? Who will be the other?”

With one last growl, he turned and left the loft. He couldn't believe he was losing control so much, but he couldn't tolerate them putting his son, his mate, at risk. Of course he wasn't going to ignore it; he was leaving now, but he would closely follow all of their steps, making sure that Stiles remained alive and without a single scratch. The only marks he could have on his body were his.

  
  


  
  


They chose a bar where two of the victims had disappeared. Stiles appeared in skinny dark jeans that highlighted his rounded butt, a tight black T-shirt with a wide neckline and a trendy pendant, and other accessories, all probably Lydia's work. He looked delicious. Stiles had no idea how attractive he was so he was probably worried about not being able to attract the genie. It was ridiculous, half the bar had already noticed him shortly after entering, men and women alike, and several were waiting for the best opportunity to get closer, when he already had some alcohol in his body.

Peter watched him from outside through the windows, too far away to hear him, ignoring the rest of the pack that hovered in the shadows around the bar, Lydia the only one inside so they wouldn't scare the genie with the smell of a creature. He saw a woman sitting at the bar next to Stiles. She had long black hair and dark skin. It was obvious from her movements that she was flirting, and Peter had to hold back a growl when he saw the blush that spread across his son's face at one point, with the woman's hand on his arm. He heard Derek contact with Lydia.

“We will follow them until she takes him to her lair.”

Idiot. They didn't care about Stiles' safety, they were going to get him killed.

As soon as he saw them leave the bar through the back door, the woman's arm around his son's, he sped towards them and before any of them could react Peter opened the woman's throat with his claws. There was a deep silence. He could smell then that the woman was indeed not human (he hadn't really checked before killing her). He too could smell Stiles fear, his heart racing, almost panicking and... aroused? They looked into each other's eyes, Peter's glowing and Stiles' dilated. The only reason Peter wasn't jumping on him right now was because of the other pack members rushing up. However, Stiles subtly tilted his head to the side, showing him his neck.  _Fuck_ ... He was going to fuck him unconscious.

“Peter! What the hell have you done?!” Derek yelled growling.

“This was not the plan! No one had to die!” Scott yelled as well, staring in horror at the genie's body.

“Were you going to invite her to your pack as you did with the twins? You are very desperate.”

“Peter!” his nephew growled at him threateningly.

“I'm not following anyone's plan, I'm not part of this pack, after all. I'm only saving the life of a defenseless human from the clutches of a dangerous genie. If you want to report me to the sheriff, go ahead,” he answered arrogantly, without being the least bit intimidated by the angry stares of the brats. Of course they weren't going to tell the sheriff anything, they couldn't, he would be furious if he knew they had put his son (or the one he considered his son) in such danger.

Scott looked at Derek and the rest of his packmates. He finally seemed defeated.

“Let's take care of this,” and he gave instructions to dispose of the body and clean the scene before anyone arrived.

Of course, Peter didn't participate, he stepped aside and peeked at Stiles, who couldn't seem to take his eyes off him. When there were no werewolves around, Stiles leaned closer to Peter, his hips swaying slightly, until their bodies were almost brushing.

“Did you get your claws dirty for me?” Stiles asked him in a whispering voice, a glint of mischief in his eyes. “Did you want to protect me, Dad?”

A deep, steady growl, almost like a purr, vibrated in Peter's chest. His claws dug into his palms to avoid grabbing the boy.

“I couldn't allow that whore to hurt my little boy,” he replied in the same voice he used during sex.

Stiles visibly shuddered, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He licked his lower lip slowly, suggestive. Peter couldn't help but follow the movement with his glowing eyes. There was so much tension that their bodies were almost vibrating.

“Will you come kiss me goodnight, Dad?” he barely whispered, almost panting.

Peter could feel the fangs wanting to come out. Not the blood or the thrill of killing had made him lose control like this.

“Of course, sweetheart. Go home and get ready for me,” he said, his voice more wolf than human.

If they weren't practically magnetized to each other, Stiles would turn around and ran to his car. This way, he slowly backed away without breaking eye contact until he had no choice but to turn. His whole body was hot, he knew his face was flushed and it wasn't from shame. His hard cock pressed against his pants and felt tortuous. He never imagined that seeing Peter kill would make him so horny. But he knew that was not all, that the most important part was the fact that Peter had protected him, that he cared for him, that he was taking care of him.  _God_ ... he needed to get home ASAP.

Stiles internally cursed when Lydia approached him upon reaching his jeep. He smiled, as always, and thought about how to put his agitated state down to what had happened rather than how horny he was.

“We have to talk.” That tone was worrying. “It's about Peter.”

_Shit_ , she had seen them. And of course she had to be the first to notice.

“Um... Right now-”

“Stiles. It's important, you have to listen to me.” She stepped between him and the car door. “When Peter asked me who his child was, I lied to him.”

“You can't lie to a wolf,” he replied.

“It happened right after Scott had got into my mind with his claws and I was so unsettled that he didn't register the lie.”

“Okay, so who's his child?” he asked impatiently, just wanting to get in his jeep and go home.

“You, Stiles. You are his son.”

His brain short-circuited at that moment. He wasn't even able to ask her if she was joking, he  _knew_ it was true. And he knew Peter had figured it out too somehow.

“Son of a bitch,” he muttered, dumbfounded.

“Stiles-”

He pushed Lydia away without caring for her and got into the jeep. It took him a couple of tries to get it started and he finally stepped on the gas. He got home within minutes, barely aware of the drive there. His father was still working so he went upstairs and locked himself in his room. But Noah wasn't his father, was he? He had been lying to him all these years or maybe he didn't know either. He was not his father. Peter Hale was his father, that bastard. For the love of God, he had been having sex with his own father. He had... done unspeakable things with his father. Only a few minutes ago he had been teasing him by calling him dad so Peter would fuck him that night.

“Fuck!” That had been Peter's idea. Peter had been all horny fucking his own son while Stiles called him Dad without even knowing that he was really his father. That guy was sick, totally, and at a much higher level than he had imagined.

If Peter had told him as soon as he discovered it, it would still have been bad, but it wouldn't have been his fault, he could not know. However, Peter had found out, who knows when (although he had a pretty good idea), and had continued to fuck him. It was simply inexcusable. He was going to kill him and make him suffer first. He didn't care that Peter was his father, he wanted to see him burn again. Well, maybe not burning, a third time was too repetitive, but something like impaling him alive didn't sound bad.

At that moment, Peter came through the window. His face was serious, he could feel by the boy's scent, his irritation, his anger, his confusion, all mixed with his previous arousal. Something had happened in the short time they had been apart, and it was not good.

“You fucking son of a bitch! You knew it! You knew it and you kept fucking me!” Stiles yelled at him, waving his arms.

He couldn't deny that the anger on his son's face made his crotch tingle slightly.

“Yes.” It was useless to feign ignorance in front of Stiles, it would only make him angrier.

“'Yes'? That's it? Aren't you going to give me a reason why you did it, an argument not to kill you?” he asked almost yelling, his body out of control.

“You wouldn't kill your father, twice.”

“My father is Noah Stilinski, you are a fucking degenerate psychopath,” he clarified, pointing at Peter.

“You have to admit this isn't as bad as the murders,” Peter said lightly.

“No, it's not so bad to fuck your son knowing that he is your son,” he replied sarcastically. “You even made me call you dad! You are sick!”

“You enjoyed it too,” Peter told him with a smile.

“I didn't know you really were my father!” Stiles retorted, his face red with anger.

“You don't have to see me as your father, I'm not interested in becoming one. As wonderful as it'd be to have you as my son, I'd be a terrible father.” Peter walked towards him with his imposing figure (even if they were the same height) until Stiles was pinned against the wall. Their bodies brushed against each other, their breaths mingled. Stiles knew he couldn't escape if Peter didn't let him, but he didn't try either, his body was reacting to him unconsciously and the excitement of anger was too much like the excitement of arousal. “But you are my mate and I'm not giving that up.”

“Lie, how can I be your mate if I'm your son?”

“I've never lied to you, Stiles, even though I've kept things from you. I don't know how it can be possible, it shouldn't, but I know what my senses and instincts tell me.” His eyes flashed, his hands holding his hips possessively. “You are mine, you were born to be mine, and I will not give up what's mine. They've taken too many things from me, you won't be one of them.”

“This isn't possible, you are... you are my father, we can't have this kind of relationship, it's so sick,” he shook his head, but his body responded to him without his permission. Stiles was clutching his arms, trying weakly to push him away and pulling him closer the next second. Peter could hear his heart racing, the scent of arousal rising above the others.

“And why does it feel so right?” Peter whispered in answer, their lips brushing. “Or are you going to tell me that you don't feel it? That every fiber of your being doesn't shake when I touch you, that you don't feel how your body opens so willingly for me, that you don't get hard every time you see me since we met, that I can't fill your mind with thoughts about me and erase any other thought. Stiles, your mouth can lie as much as it wants, but your body is an open book to me.” Peter pressed him against the wall, one leg between his, and Stiles groaned, rubbing his erection against his thigh. “Don't deny yourself something you want so badly just because society thinks it's wrong. After all, you have never followed their canons, like a good son of mine.”

At his words, Stiles moaned pitifully and clung to his shoulders. Peter started rocking against him, pressing against his hard crotch and grabbing his ass with both hands. Stiles kept mounting him like a dog, soft moans emanating from his mouth.

“That's it, just let yourself go, feel it,” Peter whispered in his ear in a soft voice. “You're doing so good, sweetheart. Show Dad what a good boy you are, cum for me.”

Stiles tightened his embrace, thrusting against him, and he came as Peter sank his teeth into his neck. Peter had bitten him like a wolf would bite his mate to seal their union. It had been somewhat unconscious, but Peter smirked satisfied. He picked Stiles up and laid him on the bed, laying down next to him. He wrapped the boy in his arms and gently kissed his forehead and his hair as his hands caressed him reassuringly.

“We have to cut that daddy thing,” Stiles muttered into his chest.

“Of course not.”


	5. Chapter 5

After a while snuggling with Stiles in his bed, Peter had to leave, the sheriff was coming home. He wasn't going to admit it, but he was a little nervous about what would go through the boy's mind in his absence. If he decided to discuss it with someone, everything could fall apart. He wasn't easily swayed, but this was a special case and Stiles was scared. However, early that morning, the boy showed up at his apartment.

“If we're going to do this, it'll have to be official,” he told Peter seriously, keeping his distance so as not to get distracted. “If you want to mate with me, and I still don't understand why you'd want something like that, you'll have to do it officially, with whatever werewolves do to make it final. It's the only way I can know for sure you're not playing games with me, that you're serious.”

“Despite my charming tone suggesting otherwise, I've always been very serious with you,” Stiles snorted, shaking his head at his answer. “But if you want it to be official, nothing will make me happier.”

“Okay... How are we going to do it?” he asked, now showing his anxiety.

“Simple, we'll fuck and I'll bite you. Don't worry, nothing excessive.”

“That easy?”

“That easy. No condoms. And every werewolf will know that you're mine as soon as they see you. You won't be able to hide it from the pack.”

“I don't want to. I'm tired of... I'm alive thanks to you and not just because of the Nogitsune. You're the only one who cares about me, the only one who seems to have the slightest interest in my well-being. I feel good when I'm with you, it's the only time I feel good, and when the disasters are upon us I think I'll survive because you'll be there and you'll save us when everything else has failed. I'm tired of hiding what I have with you because it's the only thing that feels real in this damn city.”

Peter moved closer to him, both hands holding his face, stroking his cheeks damp with small tears he hadn't even noticed.

“You're my son and my mate, the most important thing for me in this world, and I'll always protect you, even with my life, and I'll take care of you as well as possible and as much as you allow me, and a little more,” he said slowly, enunciating each word clearly to make sure he gave them the weight they really had. His expression was serious and determined, more than it had ever been. “Have no doubt that I'll kill without a second thought anyone who poses a threat to you, whatever the great True Alpha thinks. No one has the right to take you from me and when I made it clear to the supernatural world, no one will dare even try.”

Stiles' pupils were dilated, wet with more tears, and his heart was pounding, but there was a strange calm about him and he gave off a delicious smell of happiness.

“So what are you waiting for to claim me, Dad?”

He didn't need to be told twice.

Peter grabbed him around the waist and lifted him up, holding his delicious backside as Stiles wrapped his legs around him. With deep and passionate kisses, he headed into his room without even looking where he was walking. Stiles didn't want to let go when they got to bed, so Peter just lay on top of him. They were kissing for a long time, just because they could. Their bodies pressed against each other, erections trapped in their pants. When Stiles had no more breath left, he threw his head back and let Peter start on his neck.

“I hope biting me doesn't mean something like what you did to Scott because I don't think I'd survive that. Is it necessary to draw blood? Because I don't like blood at all, you know. Your human teeth are enough or does it have to be with your fangs?”

“Stiles,” Peter cut him off before he continued his ramblings. He took Stiles' shirt off and leaned over him looking into his eyes. He could hear his heart racing like a frightened rabbit's. “Trust me and enjoy as always.”

Peter gave him a quick kiss and went back down his neck. This time he was allowed to mark, and he wasn't going to hold back. He licked the soft skin, sucked on it, nibbled it without drawing blood, over and over all over the boy's neck and chest until his son was moaning and writhing beneath him, the scent of arousal increasing with each mark. He left the last mark just above his pubic hair. When he sucked, his erection throbbed and brushed against his face, leaving a trail of pre-cum. Stiles moaned at the sight and held out his hands for him to come closer. Peter leaned over him again and the boy cupped his face in his hands and licked the stain on his cheek. Peter's wolf was practically purring at the treatment.

He reluctantly pulled away to remove his pants and get rid of his own clothes as well, there were too many layers between them.

“Open your legs for Dad, sweetheart,” he asked.

Stiles obeyed and Peter knelt where he belonged.

“I can't believe I really share your blood comparing that...” he pointed towards Peter's body with raised eyebrows appreciatively, “and this,” he pointed then towards his own body with an expression of disgust.

“Oh, my love, if you only knew how beautiful you are. Do you want a big and muscular body? You don't need it. You have a better chance of defeating and surviving thanks to that brain of yours than any werewolf, no matter how much muscle they have. Besides, if you were a wolf, you'd be slender and majestic with these long limbs. I'd love to chase you through the woods, although I don't know if I'd ever catch you.”

“I'd let you catch me to get my reward,” Stiles replied smiling, a blush spreading across his face and his neck. Stiles probably still didn't believe he was beautiful, his self-esteem level was pitiful, but Peter took it upon himself to rise it every time he fucked him.

“Hm~ Next Saturday we'll play catch Red Riding Hood in the woods.” Peter kissed his chin and jaw, his lips caressing the tender skin.

“Will you be my Big Bad Wolf?” Stiles asked with a moan, lifting his hips to find some friction on his throbbing cock.

Stiles gave a very masculine cry when he felt Peter's fingers covered in cold lube at his opening. He hadn't even realized when he'd gotten the lube out.

“I'll be whatever you want, my little one, if you wear that red jacket of yours.”

Stiles moaned in answer, spreading his legs further at the first finger slipping inside him. Peter was sure his son knew how much a wolf enjoyed the chase, how it could get a little out of hand. He was looking forward to seeing him lying over the leaves on the ground, panting with his heart racing, not unlike how he was now, but with the moon over his head.

A needy moan from Stiles brought him out of his thoughts, he had more important matters to focus on now.

“Dad, please, more,” he pleaded urgently, moving his hips uneasily.

Peter pulled out his finger and shoved two inside, sliding a third without waiting long for him to get used to it. He got what he wanted, Stiles' body melting at the mixture of pleasure and pain, totally lost in the sensations it caused him. He was sure that right now Stiles was unable to think about anything but him and Peter loved that. He twisted his fingers inside him and spread them slightly. Peter pulled them out and back in, opening him gently as the hole swallowed them greedily. The boy was soon moaning and wiggling, trying to get more, his cock dripping a puddle of pre-cum onto his belly. He yelped in surprise when Peter rubbed his prostate, having ignored it until now.

“If I fuck you now, how long do you think it'll take for you to come?” he asked thoughtfully.

“Zero point five?” he replied groggily, most of his blood having left his brain.

“I thought so.” Peter pressed the prostate again, and Stiles thrusted into the air. “You're going to cum first with my fingers and then I'll take my time fucking you. What do you think?”

“Yesyesyesyesyes... Please…” he would have said yes to anything, but he knew that when Peter took his time it could be hours, werewolf stamina.

Peter smirked and began rubbing his prostate while he kept opening him with three fingers. He kissed his thighs, leaving marks on them as well. He knew Stiles was going to die of embarrassment when he had to strip in front of his teammates for lacrosse practice, but he wanted to make it clear even to humans that Stiles was his.

He smelled the increase in pleasure in his scent before even seeing his body tense. The insides tightened around his fingers and Stiles came over his belly and chest with an intense moan without even needing to touch his cock (he knew he wasn't allowed to do it anyway).

Peter watched him with hungry eyes, his own cock throbbing in sympathy. When Stiles' body relaxed, panting with that satisfied, happy expression that orgasms left him, Peter leaned over him and began licking the lines of cum that stained his chest. With the last drops of cum on his tongue, he kissed his son and shared it with him. Stiles moaned at his own taste, swallowing the seed Peter offered him, and wrapped his arms and legs around him.

“Dad, fuck me, mark me,” he asked, biting his lower lip suggestively.

Peter growled, his claws sinking into the sheets for a moment. Without waiting a second longer, he lifted the boy's legs and pierced him with his dripping cock. He went slowly, but didn't stop until he reached the bottom. Stiles sighed in relief when Peter was inside and smiled dopey.

“It doesn't feel different,” he muttered. Peter raised an eyebrow in question. “It's not different from when I didn't know you were my father. I feel good, full, as if something's missing if I don't have you inside and now I'm complete. That feeling hasn't changed, although now it has a little more kinky.”

Peter had to use all of his strength to control his shift. What Stiles had just said had shaken him from within as the boy couldn't even imagine. He felt exactly the same, he felt that this way they were complete, that this is how it should be. The wolf was howling with joy inside him. This only confirmed what Peter already knew, that they were predestined.

When he was sure that he wouldn't dig his claws into the boy's skin, he grabbed his legs again and began to move slowly. He set an almost mortifying pace, nowhere near enough to bring him close to climax. Peter wanted more than anything to mark and claim Stiles as his own, but he also knew how to savor the rare pleasures he got, the special moments. And he wanted to hear his son beg.

Peter kept marking his body as he thrusted inside him, sucking on his nipples until they were red and swollen, just how he liked them; leaving more hickeys down his arms that even the T-shirts couldn't hide; kissing each and every one of his adorable moles with great reverence. He was beautiful, the most beautiful boy he had ever seen and he couldn't wait to see him grow into the most attractive man. And he was only his. How much pride that caused him.

“Dad... Dad, Peter, please... I can't take it anymore...” Stiles said as he pressed his heels against Peter's butt to try to make him go faster.

Of course he could take even more, Peter knew his limits well and he liked to push him to them. Stiles was already hard again, even dripping. Peter made sure to brush against his prostate every time he thrusted in, drawing melodious moans from his mouth until he sobbed.

“Dad, I'm going to... I want to come with you,” Stiles told him with wet eyes, his fingers twisted in the sheets trying to hold on.

Peter couldn't resist it, his little one knew how to stir him up.

“Where do you want the bite? Where do you want my mark?” Peter asked him before everything got too hectic and intense.

Stiles thought about it for a moment and then held out his right hand. Peter smiled and laced his fingers with the boy's. He picked up the pace abruptly, thrusting brutally, his claws ripping the sheets and mattress, his fangs extended and his eyes glowing. He couldn't control himself anymore, he didn't want to either. Stiles was crying under him, but he knew it wasn't from the pain that was spreading through his ass -and the boy didn't allow him to draw it out with his power- but from the pleasure that was flooding his entire body. It was a wonderful image and Peter didn't hold out any longer. He raised Stiles' right hand and sank his fangs into his wrist very carefully -he had to keep in mind that he was human-. Stiles screamed and came at that very moment, tightening his insides around his father's cock.

Peter... he was in another world. He was barely able to feel the warm body beneath him, his mind filled with the bond he had just formed. A torrent of emotions and feelings flowed within him. He was able to feel the happiness and pleasure that Stiles felt, he could feel the boy as if he were part of himself, a vital part, as if it were his own heart beating. His son, his mate, his everything. Not even the moon could compete with what Stiles was now to him.

“Shhh. It's okay. It's okay, Dad. I'm here, I'm with you,” Stiles whispered, gently stroking his head and back.

Peter reacted and realized that he was hugging Stiles as if his life depended on it, tears running down his cheeks. He relaxed his embrace, but didn't let go, he didn't feel capable. He had knotted Stiles and Peter was still cuming inside him, but he was barely aware of it. Peter took his hand and licked the wound, sucking the pain that throbbed there. It wasn't too deep, but it would take time to heal and it'll leave an obvious scar.

“This is forever.” A smile played on the boy's lips.

“Yes, sweetheart. You're tied to me forever.” Peter gave him a sweet kiss on his swollen red lips. “I'm never letting you go.”

He could feel trough the bond the happiness that his words inspired in his son.

  
  


  
  


Stiles arrived at the pack meeting that afternoon (Peter's unacceptable behavior as the only point of the day), hobbling a little, with visible hickeys everywhere and with a bandage on his wrist. All those with heightened senses turned their heads towards him as if there had just been an explosion. They sniffed the air in his direction as complicated expressions passed over their faces.

“Stiles… why do you smell like sex and Peter Hale?” Scott asked confused with his big puppy eyes, hoping there was a logical explanation.

Immediately a menacing growl began to vibrate in Derek's throat, the rest of the pack staring at Stiles in surprise and confusion.

“Maybe because I had sex with Peter Hale?” and Peter had made sure to fill him well with his cum so there was no room for doubt. If it weren't for the butt plug he was wearing it would be dripping down his thighs.

“W-why would you do something like that?” Malia asked with an expression of disgust. If she knew.

“Because he's hot as hell, he's the smartest of you all and the only one who cares that I'm still alive?” He hated having to explain, it was his life, they had nothing to say, but he knew he had to endure it.

“Is it because of what happened last night? Stiles, we weren't going to let anything happen to you, you didn't have to... do _that_ with Peter Hale because of what happened,” Scott said, looking at him almost pityingly. Stiles struggled to ignore it.

“That had nothing to do with it, I've been fucking him for months.” He didn't think it was possible, but their faces twisted into even more stunned expressions. “Today we've decided to stop hiding it and make it official, that's all.”

“You have mated,” Derek said, he hadn't stopped growling. It wasn't a question, Derek knew it, and not just from the bandage on his wrist but also from the subtle change in his scent.

“That's right, so you can't do anything about it. Now if we start with the meeting-”

“Wait, what do you mean with mated?” Kira asked confused.

“It basically means we'll be together for life, wolves only mate once. I'm his soulmate and not even the alpha of the pack can do anything about it. Not that I was going to allow it even if he could. This is my life, and I choose who to spend it with. I know what I'm doing, he isn't manipulating me, I know very well who Peter Hale is and if you have any other complaints please tell whoever is interested, not me.”

“Why hasn't he come?” Derek asked, visibly angry and frustrated.

“Because, as you have made clear to him many times, he isn't part of this pack and therefore he doesn't have to put up with you. His words. Besides, we've run out of lube, he's gone to buy more,” he added casually, almost enjoying their expressions of distaste. Shall we start with the meeting?"

“Stiles, listen,” Scott began, “Peter must have done something to trick you, some spell or-”

“Stop it, I'm not staying here to listen to this. Either you accept it or you won't see me again. Period. I won't discuss this issue, I've already said what I had to say. And if anyone thinks about trying to attack or harm my mate, I'll make sure they throw black goo out their ass. I give you time to think about it. Until the next meeting,” Stiles turned around and left the loft waving his hand goodbye.

It actually hadn't gone as bad as he had expected. He knew it wasn't going to be easy, he might even have to leave the pack, but he wasn't going to give up on Peter. They could built their own pack together, he was already thinking about ways to get Peter to be alpha again, but he still wouldn't tell him.

When he was already sitting in his jeep and was about to start, Lydia appeared at his door. Stiles didn't even bother to get out of the car, he just rolled down the window.

“What are you doing, Stiles?” she asked with a deeply serious tone and a concerned, analytical face.

“What I want to do, Lydia. I've been sleeping with him for a long time, and what you told me doesn't change how I feel about him, if any it increases my wish to be with him. Some weird joke of fate has wanted me to be his mate as well. Why not? I don't care that it's taboo in this society, it feels right to me and I've endured enough shit to deny myself something that I want so much and that makes me so happy. If you want to tell the others and have them think even worse of me, go ahead, and I wasn't joking about getting revenge if someone attacks my mate. I already have one foot out of this pack anyway and couldn't care less now.”

He rolled up the window glass without waiting for a reply and started the car. He wanted to go home quickly (to Peter's home and soon his own), feeling his father's cum inside him was making him horny and he wanted to play a little with the toys he had seen in the drawer where the plug had come from.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Comments and kudos are welcome ^^
> 
> You can leave your requests for fanfics on [my Blog](http://kirah69-fanfic.blogspot.com/p/aqui-podeis-dejarme-vuestros-mensajes.html) or [my Tumblr.](https://kirah69.tumblr.com/).


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